


Seals of Love - The DVD Extras

by TKelParis



Category: Much Ado About Nothing (2011), Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Married Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-04 10:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13362666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKelParis/pseuds/TKelParis
Summary: Written as a Christmas present forsykira. A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.





	1. Extra the First

**Author's Note:**

> When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. And now that NaNo's over, I'm working on the Christmas stories. Thank goodness some of them were already done. :D

**Title** : Seals of Love - DVD Extra [#1](https://www.livejournal.com/rsearch/?tags=%231)  
**Genre** : Much Ado About Nothing  
**Rating** : M  
**Authors** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/) & [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[**tardis_mole**](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : Written as a Christmas present for [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/). A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.  
**Disclaimer** : Good lord, I'm writing fanfic about a Shakespeare play! Do I need to write that I own nothing? Especially when it's inspired by a particular stage performance?  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/). A very Belated Merry Christmas, love. :D  
**Author's Note:** When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. And now that NaNo's over, I'm working on the Christmas stories. Thank goodness some of them were already done. :D  
  
And for this extra, I found myself stuck on the smut. So I asked my good friend [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/)**tardis_mole** for ideas, and got such a good show that I felt co-author credit had been earned. Thank you, my friend. This is so much better for your input. :DDDDD  
  
  
  
[Chapter 1](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/46932.html)

 

 

 

  
**EXTRA THE FIRST: A MARRIED MERRY WAR (AND NOT FOR BEGINNERS)**  


  
**Finished January 16, 2013**  
  
  
  
Beatrice was a busy woman upon returning to the home she had been born in, her father's. The home she had inherited upon his death, which had left her an orphan under the rule of her uncle Leonato, her late mother's brother. Only her marriage had granted her the rightful control over her fortunes and land, and she was sadly aware that she owed it to her husband's willingness to be a man for her sake. Only Benedick's ensuring that all knew her commands were to be obeyed had allowed her free reign in his absence.  
  
Indeed, although many had been happy to return to the homes that they had been forced to leave unoccupied since her father's death, not everyone viewed her as having the right to rule over what she owned. Which forced Benedick to take considerable action to secure the cooperation, and then years of proving themselves to be the best master and mistress the household could wish for had developed a firm loyalty from her father's staff, friends, and allies.  
  
It could still be seen, in one light, as though she had merely traded one ruler for another, but hers was only in name. In practice, they were equals, and he respected her family's traditions, more than willing to help her revive them after so many years without observation.  
  
With her husband returned to her, she had to ensure that his things were ready for him, that the belongings brought with him were taken care of, and that there would be plenty ordered for breakfast in the morning. Still, she had an efficient house, and some of the help divided their time between her and her uncle's service – an arrangement that had begun upon her marriage and ended up carrying on because the households learned from each other. So it seemed like a lot of work, but was concluded to her satisfaction.  
  
With a final command for the preparation for supper and for the reveling, she sought Benedick's company. She had noticed the barber's man leaving, so she knew the face she adored was bare again – just the way she liked it. Her feet skipped her body along for joy, not caring what anyone thought of her. She was mistress of the house, after all.  
  
A loud chorus of child laughter made her smile wider, especially when her husband's distinctive laugh joined them. She soon found him leading three of the children toward their rooms, the two youngest in his arms. “More stories, Father,” the children pleaded, at various intervals.  
  
Benedick shook his head. “No, my little mischief-makers, you must prepare for supper and reveling. I must first consult with your mother.” Only the heated look he briefly gave her belied his innocent tone.  
  
Resigned groans rang out as the parents herded the children into the care of waiting gentlewomen. They waited until their brood was completely preoccupied.  
  
Then their eyes met, and one could almost hear the fire ignite. “I pray thee,” Beatrice began as she tugged him toward their rooms, “tell me why the prince's Messenger seemed to wonder about me being thy wife.”  
  
Benedick's chuckle was low and naughty. “It was known that I was the only man of the army who would not... seek local entertainment. I imagine he was looking to see what has me so taken that I had no wish to partake in the activities my fellow men enjoyed.”  
  
She all but preened as they hurried inside. “So not one woman tempted thee in the slightest?”  
  
Seeing the already drawn bath made his eyes light up. “What need is there when the feast at home will be all the sweeter?” He lunged to close the door before burying his nose a moment in her hair, and her scent relaxed him as nothing else could. Except what was coming next, of course.  
  
She smirked and turned in his arms. “Now my hair must be cleaned before the revels,” she protested in mock sharpness, making short work of his shirt.  
  
His grin turned into more of a leer, especially as he removed her shirt and bra within moments. “And is washing thy hair supposed to be a punishment for me?”  
  
She snorted. “Not the one most would think it ought to be.” She made his trousers loose within seconds. “So no one even tried to tempt you?”  
  
His hands were no less busy drawing her jeans and pants off her hips. “Oh, many tried, as they have for years. But they all thought the way into my bed was to flatter me.”  
  
Beatrice's laugh rang as they finished disrobing. “O poor soul, being surrounded by lackys!”  
  
He followed her eagerly into the tub, wincing a moment at the warmth. “And what acts of disobedience does-” He gasped, shooting his hands out to halt his descent into the water.  
  
She grinned wickedly at surprising him with a wet handful of soap. “The kind that ensures you have been well-behaved in my absence.”  
  
He was slowly reduced to panting as he struggled for a retort. It didn't help that his eyes were distracted by two jiggling sights slightly above him. “And has my lady been playing in my absence?”  
  
“Only when I am alone.”  
  
The purr made his eye nearly roll back in his head. “Cruel woman!”  
  
She splashed his hips, sending most of the soap away. “You assume I feel any shame in the matter.”  
  
He exhaled sharply as the rest of the soap washed away. “Does thou not know such teasing can send a man to an early grave?!”  
  
She cut off any further reply by sinking onto him, gasping over the long-awaited joining. The weight sank them slowly into the bath. Collecting her breath, she smiled coyly as she placed her hands firmly over his wrists – pinning them to the sides of the bath – as she began moving over him. “That would be a deep loss, for I have not done with thee.”  
  
He glared at her – without force, since he was trying to match her thrust for thrust. “So I might expect this level of disrespect from my children?”  
  
“Not unless thy wits go halting off and thus they will not consider it worth obeying thee.”  
  
“And they obey thy commands without question?”  
  
“Usually.”  
  
“And what-” His words were cut off as he reached his peak unexpectedly with a wordless hum.  
  
Beatrice smiled knowingly. “A man who runs to war must sooner run home!” she mocked in feigned disdain.  
  
“Don’t jest upon it, my wife, for I have missed thee like a man in the desert doth miss water.”  
  
“Then I shall make a merry war on it, for as I live and breathe you still leave me ergo you cannot miss me that much.”  
  
He growled feral-like. “You besmirch my honour and my manhood. You might own house and kith in your father’s name, but I am still the man of this house.”  
  
Beatrice laughed loudly and gasped as he lifted her and rolled her over until she was beneath him in the tub. She squealed and panted, gazing up at him. “Forsooth, there is strength in him yet. And I had wager with my cousin that after such trees as you have planted within my womb you would have not strength still to call yourself man.”  
  
“I do not just call myself a man, but I can prove such facts to you, right here, or my honour is torn asunder and you are but a wench.”  
  
“A wench!” she howled.  
  
He didn’t give her a moment to name her cry as anger or amusement, but attacked her mouth with his in earnest portrayal of said manliness. He took her body again, wooing her to a frenzy of giggled moans and panting. Water sloshed over the sides of the bath and landing in noisy splashes in accompaniment. While regaining their breaths, seeing stars before it grew dark outside, he peered over the side to the tiled floor.  
  
“Perhaps now you might reaffirm my standing in gender and fortitude, my dearest love?” he hoped. “As there is evidence enough on the floor if not in your womb, I dare say?”  
  
Beatrice huffed a breathless laugh. “I doubt it not,” she agreed. “A mere glimpse of you upon yonder hill and out comes another babe to increase the numbers.”  
  
He smiled widely, unrepentant. “We have a sizeable brood, I grant thee, but there is more than enough room to sprout an army.”  
  
“Dear god,” she grumbled in quiet good-nature. “Needs must, Messina shall go to war again, this time to shift her boarders outward.”  
  
“Or I shall build another floor above this,” he said. “That way the only war that rages shall be this, between me and thee.”  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at the grin that stretched across his face like an upturned rainbow. “And shall it be that this merry war with continue indefinitely, for I had wager yet with my cousin that it would fizzle as the nightingale at dawn.”  
  
“Do not too soon, for you know as well as I that I have loved you for a day and a night and gone on again for another, and it was you that fell asleep, while I twiddled thumbs.”  
  
“Indeed, but that was last year. How well does your older self stand up to such a lengthy memory?” she goaded.  
  
He held her gaze for several seconds until he pointed at her threateningly, though there was no threat behind. Not a bad one at least. “You wait, dear wife and wit combatant, for if there had not been dinner waiting and a revelling beyond, I would have had you ‘til all Christendom fell.”  
  
Beatrice smiled at him lovingly. She had no answer for that, nor did she doubt it. She had no idea what he was like on the battlefield and she did _not_ wish to know what he had to do to return home safely to her, but in the art of love he was the man of the hour, week, year, all of that and more. “Shall we wash?” she suggested. “For perhaps there is a way I can bring you to a ruin such as manly war cannot protect against.”  
  
As had happened on just two previous occasions, he had no idea what she had planned.  
  
Minutes were taken where they could have spent a happy hour, but in tantalizing so quickly they found new delights where they had not searched before. Mutual washing had its drawbacks. One they reached a joyous tumult too soon, and someone knocked on their door.  
  
“My Lord? My Lady? I have come to call thee to dinner,” a male voice spoke through from outside, sounding as though the man had not heard the moment before.  
  
“We’re coming,” Benedick responded in rasped tones.  
  
That set Beatrice into another round of giggles.  
  
With a gasp he grinned at her. “I fear I am undone by a wench after all, but happily she is my wench.”  
  
“And I am happily married to a man,” Beatrice announced.  
  
His grinned continued as he rose from the water, rivulets running off his nakedness and rejoining the rest still in the tub. “Watch your step when you climb out,” he warned, holding out a hand to her.  
  
Beatrice gladly accepted his help and they both took a towel each and began to dry each other. Before they had gone very far, the heat of missed nights together spurred them to make love again against the vanity, uncaring that it knocked for entry on the wall behind it.  
  
“I shall plant two trees,” he grinned.  
  
“If that be the case, you can push them out,” she told him. “In fact come half way through fruiting season you can carry them in my stead.”  
  
“I would if it were in me to do’t.” He kissed her and led her into their wardrobe. “If it were in me I’d take upon me all the pains you take to bring forth life. And gladly lay down my life for their and your protection.”  
  
Beatrice smiled at him and kissed him tenderly before they reached for underclothes. “You are away at war too much, husband. How long will you stay?”  
  
“As long as you’ll have me.” He stopped her a moment, putting the pants she chose away with a heated look.  
  
She grinned and let him help her put on her bra. “Hmm... I could answer in womanly fashion or as our merry war dictates.”  
  
“Whichever is the longest,” he coaxed.  
  
“Forever, until our boarders are at risk again, whichever is the longest.”  
  
“My duty and my wife,” he agreed. “But tonight, my wife and children come first.”  
  
They finished dressing quickly after that, ensuring their hair was dried and their additional items were at hand. Dinner required something formal, so he put on a dress shirt and dark trousers, which could be opened quietly if the need arose. Beatrice pulled on her red dress – the color hid any flushes she might develop – and he secured the back for her before they quickly assembled the final touches. And together, heralded by verbal jousting, they arrived in time for dinner.  
  
  
On to Chapter 2: [Make Good Room](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/71361.html)


	2. Extra the Second

**DVD EXTRA THE SECOND: WHEN REASON DEPARTS AND PASSION CONSUMES**

Benedick was not used to his wife letting him carry her anywhere without protest. She had permitted him to lift her to bed on their wedding night, and when she was exhausted while she bore the fruits of their joinings. But no other occasion would convince her to let him exert what she considered another example of a man imposing his will on a woman. So that she was laughing and still sipping from the bottle when they arrived at their home was more than a little disturbing. 

“Wife, how much has thou had to drink?”

“Not nearly enough to deal with Hero's reveling.”

“Has our cousin been utterly shocked by the realities her mother intended her to learn about?”

“Enough. I thank god she had the sense to refuse the hair adornment that Margaret's naughty side suggested first.”

“Which was?”

Beatrice looked around, noticing a few of their men around. Not wishing to say it within their hearing, she whispered it into her husband's ear.

Benedick stopped, the motion awkward given his burden. He blinked as the idea of a red veil with devil horns sank in. “Tell me, did you wear such on your night?”

She laughed. “And make my aunt have a fit? No, they all thought me a devil already. Why encourage the notion further?”

“Wise,” he decreed.

She slapped his shoulder. “Enough, I shall walk the rest of the way to our room.”

He knew when to give in to her, and so he gently let her down. Besides, he knew he would likely receive some additional treat before long.

She stumbled slightly, but refused her husband's hands for aid. “Ooh, perhaps this was not a good idea.” She wiggled the bottle before she put down on a nearby table and started dancing her way to their room.

Eyes wide and his mouth exhaling rapidly from the sight of his wife's swaying hips, Benedick quickly caught the attention of a nearby gentleman and motioned for him to put the bottle away. She had bought it, and he decided that it would be saved for another occasion. Then he put on some speed and took one of his wife's hands.

“Feeling _merry_ tonight, love?” He had to be sure how she fared, for to even make a move toward her would be wrong if she was truly drunk.

She laughed the whole way to their room, and as soon as the door was closed pinned him against it. To further throw him off, she practically fell against him, and his hands flew to support her, landing on her ample bosom. "Ah ah ah!" she teased him, batting away his hands, forcing them against the door. "This one is mine. Now tell me, has thou ever been tempted by one the whores that entertain the bachelors before their wedding day?”

“I never permitted myself to be,” he rasped. Which was understandable given how her hands were traveling all over his body, over his clothes. Or how he stood fascinated as she moved her fingers against his chest, undoing the fastenings on his shirt to bare his chest to her questing hands that combed through the hairs there.

“Because you only chose to use whores who could not possibly bear fruit?”

He flushed, partly in a little embarrassment over the memory. “I never let the ones who might come close enough, put them off by guiding them to other men. I have been with a woman once who attempted violence if I did not plant her fertile field,” he recalled. He swallowed hard, and not for what Beatrice was doing. Despite the hint of grimness in her eyes she did not cease trailing a path downwards using the very tip of her nail to torment his tender senses until she reached the waistband of his breeches. Small wonder he could still think. “Let’s just say I was glad for the intervention of the Prince that night. He stitched me himself, a fine bow of embroidery if ever there was one. That is one battlefield I am proud to say I have avoided since.”

That explained the one wound he had never spoken of, except to hint it was a bitter reminder of some moment he was not proud of. Still she could not let the moment turn sour. “So you took care not to plant any but mine own?” Beatrice teased, having let her fingers find a large swathe of unclothed chest to tantalize. Then concentrated full on her task of tackling the buttons that held his trousers up.

“No man took as much care in that venture than I,” he panted. “That woman taught me a lesson I did not easily forget. And I have scars to remind me if I did.”

“Men are men,” Beatrice insisted. With each word she popped open a button, and let his trousers fall to his knees. “Did you not flaunt as men are want? Did your fair Prince and his brother not lead you astray?”

He wanted to ask what she planned, but her words required an answer first. “No. Thou knowst full well that once I made my vows to thee I left all other fields barren or no to others. I dare say the Prince has secrets, but he speaks of none. Don John denies he has such needs, though I could swear the opposite. I can name three such bastards he has fathered, owing to their uncanny resemblance. The Prince sends a portion for their upkeep, though Don John is unaware of that fact. I fear there are others yet unknown to the Prince.”

Becoming frustrated by Beatrice’s seemingly aimless meander across his belly, he lifted his hands to her magnificent breasts.

Beatrice straightened and batted his hands away. 

“Beatrice," he mumbled to try and stop her, but she shot him such a determined fiery look that he was powerless to halt any further action.

“Not so fast, husband. I am in the lead.”

“I thought you were drunk.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that were untrue,” she teased him in all seriousness. “The afore merry dance was for other eyes. This merry dance is for your eyes only.”

He again tried to reach for her, but she was having none of it. "As I said," she breathily told him, "this one is mine." She lowered her eyes as her hands drew the undergarment lower, fully exposing him to her sight. "Especially this one," she added as her hand came across to lightly stroke him into a reaction.

And to his utter shock she knelt and grasped him in her mouth.

He had not thought she would be willing to be so utterly naughty, even after ten plus years of marriage. This was an act a man never asked his wife to perform, he was told. No, it was supposed to be left to the whores and mistresses. But to see and feel Beatrice perform the act? The carefulness spoke to her having never done it before.

Not that he could think for long.

Groaning and panting hard he knew he was about to explode and bring the stars closer to the earth, but without warning her mouth was gone.

“Ohh! Damn it, woman!” he grated. “You cannot leave me thus undone without finishing me with nature’s little death!”

Beatrice smirked wickedly. “Who said I was finished with you?”

He gaped at her, too shocked to speak as she moved closer to him. His mind was blank. After all their years, married, she had never done this. He had never asked, even hinted. And as such, he had no idea what she had in mind. If she had tried this on their wedding night, he might have run all the faster than he had run from the jezebel.

Beatrice drew him from the door, making him nearly trip over his own pants. She drew off his shirt and pushed him to sit on a nearby chair before she sank into his lap and chuckled low in her bosom at his audible gasp. “Aye, a man can sink so low,” she purred teasingly.

“Sink me deeper and I shall surely plant several flowers in your fertile field,” he breathed.

“It’s not like we haven’t the room,” she supposed.

His head tipped back, his mouth hanging loosely. “Oh god. Here it comes. Fruit number twelve!”

Beatrice writhed on him and waited until he had honked his last, hanging limp in the chair beneath them and wringing with sweat. “Fruit number twelve?” she gasped when she could locate her breath. “I dare say my schooling was better than yours that you can’t count.”

“I was schooled perfectly, dearest. But you have milked me enough this day to cover any missed numbers, and probably beyond,” he panted, trying to regain his breath.

She smiled, a mix of fondness for his delight and smugness in her ability to so completely undo him.

“What drew thee to act thus, wife? All these years and not one hint that you would consider such as act?”

An awkwardness suddenly draped itself over her. “I confess the very thought of a whore coming near mine husband made my heart discontent, no matter how much I reminded the poor fool of your love and loyalty. How your eagerness to be in mine company did not calm the thoughts devoid of any reason, I do not know; I do know that I had not been in thy presence again a minute when I set on surprising thee so, for I did think you would not expect it.”

His smile increased. “And dare I ask where thy knowledge was found?”

She chuckled under her breath, the unease fading. “There are sources to be found in the house, if one knows where to look and who to ask.”

“Then give me a moment longer, my love; I must thank thee properly for such treatment, as I am sure my night is far more delightful than Claudio's could ever be.”

She grinned wickedly. “The night remains young yet.”


	3. Extra the Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a Christmas present for [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[sykira](https://sykira.livejournal.com/). A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. And now that NaNo's over, I'm working on the Christmas stories. Thank goodness some of them were already done. :D

  
  


  


**Title** : Seals of Love - DVD Extra the Third  
**Genre** : Much Ado About Nothing  
**Rating** : M  
**Author** : [](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/profile)[**tkel_paris**](https://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/)  
**Summary** : Written as a Christmas present for [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/). A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.  
**Disclaimer** : Good lord, I'm writing fanfic about a Shakespeare play! Do I need to write that I own nothing? Especially when it's inspired by a particular stage performance?  
**Dedication** : [](https://sykira.livejournal.com/profile)[**sykira**](https://sykira.livejournal.com/). With huge thanks to my beta, [](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://tardis-mole.livejournal.com/)**tardis_mole**.  
**Author's Note:** When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. And now that NaNo's over, I'm working on the Christmas stories. Thank goodness some of them were already done. :D  
  
This might be the softest M I've ever written. It just needed tenderness and love.  
  
  
  
[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/46932.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/71361.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/71854.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/74573.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/75885.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76526.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76658.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76870.html)  
[DVD Extra the First](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/49228.html) / [DVD Extra the Second](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76071.html)  
  


**DVD EXTRA THE THIRD: COMFORTING**  
  
The tale took a while to tell, even though Beatrice had remained silent and not asked questions to clarify details. Benedick had to pause more than once when a moment brought his heart pain to even recollect, and the horror of knowing how easily the Prince and Claudio had been misled cut him to the quick. A pain reflected in Beatrice's eyes as well.  
  
Only when he concluded, telling of the marks he gave Claudio, did Beatrice finally speak, sorrow for Margaret seeping into her voice. “'Tis remarkable what men and women can be led to through drinking, although I suppose they might be similarly led without it.”  
  
“If Don John had gone to the Prince whilst he was sober the plan could never have worked. Claudio I dare not speak for, as I do not know how much drink he had a week past, but I believe had he been in his right mind he would have demanded better proof; he hath been at odds with Don John before, which I assume inflamed the villain to target him. John the Bastard could never abide someone who made him look poorly.”  
  
“How come he hath never aimed at thee before this?”  
  
Benedick made a grimly pleased smile. “He knew my wit hath always been quicker than his, and that to attempt to deceive me would likely have made him a prisoner.”  
  
“Shame that thou could not have been there to contradict his tale last night.”  
  
“What knowledge could I have had that he aimed for mischief?” he answered sadly. A moment later his hands drew to her waist. “Comfort me,” Benedick whispered, his lips drawn downward by thoughts of what might have been.  
  
“You are too tired and stricken for love, husband,” she noted tenderly, though she adjusted her dress to straddle him as she sensed he wished.  
  
“I need not an act of love, just the tender mercies of love,” he said. “The scene of love, the touch of love and the look of love are enough to temper such a break in my heart as this.” He regarded the reddened rims of her eyes, still wet with tears as they were from the words he had shared with her. “I speak plain, wife, but thee has such a need as I right now.”  
  
Beatrice nodded as she settled against him. Her fears, which had run wild the night before, suddenly felt a need to voice a new concern – one that seemed very real in light of the fright of the day. “Hast thou ever had such thoughts of me? Ever wondered, ever given any man or woman any cause to think on me like that?”  
  
The very idea that she had a moment's doubt, and the sight of new tears in her eyes, struck his soul worse than Claudio's words. “Oh Beatrice,” he soothed, tucking her into his chest. “Cry no more. Claudio was angered and foolish in anger. And afraid for his life, as well he should have been. Sore men give account of sore words, but none are true of thee. I have never thought thee a wandering woman, nor have I ever wondered if any fruit were not mine. Thou have given me no cause to think it, neither given me to thought to look for cause, save that I am parted from thee so often in battle, but not so much more than a man who leaves home at dawn and returns at dusk in civilian life. Nay, fair wife, sunlight, moonlight and starlight of my heart, think not on Claudio’s words, lest is sour the softness of woman you are within. To see you think on this breaks my heart again.”  
  
Beatrice reached up to stroke his face, her wild imaginings tempered and her sorrow mellowed. Breathing in his scent always helped soothe her spirits. “O that every woman had such a man as my husband,” she supposed. “A great many would wander not at all. And great many more would never be shamed.”  
  
“Maria,” he noted. He would have known who she meant even if they had not encountered Bruno. “I have a thought on such, but I don’t know if I should speak its name. Not until I can prove yea or nay.”  
  
“Please tell me not that you keep silence in oath to another.”  
  
“No oath but that which I made with Bruno. I shall not keep silent once I know,” he promised, swaying gently in her arms.  
  
“You are a man of honour.”  
  
“I gained it the day I married you,” he told her softly, smoothing his hands over her buttocks to hold her closer.  
  
Beatrice closed her eyes briefly, swaying with him. “I was born perhaps with your honour and in marrying you I delivered it from heaven.”  
  
He smiled gently. “I am no angel, my love.”  
  
“In mine House, if I say do’t then man, woman and child do’t. Therefore if I say mine husband be an angel then he do’t also.”  
  
His smiled widened. “We are one and together equal. Therefore if I say mine wife is an angel she aught to do’t twice.”  
  
Beatrice laughed sadly. “I have not the tender edges of a lady.”  
  
Benedick swayed, holding her against him to give her a tender kiss. “I did not marry a lady. I married better. Half of my flesh, half of my being.”  
  
Beatrice sucked in a breath and sang to a different tune, gripping him to her as her sway lost rhythm. “And glad of it when you hold me thus,” she panted.  
  
He swayed for a few seconds more before gasping softly, pressed her against him and spat still clothed. “My love... I fear we will have to change before return to our uncle’s presence.”  
  
Beatrice risked a laugh. “I dare say it would have been too late to plant if we had loved this night.”  
  
“I might decide this is the last planting, but given how my wife loves to be loved, even when we are both worn out by events, I task myself to keep that promise unmade, lest she bade me in the doghouse sleep.”  
  
Beatrice slapped his arm lightly in teasing and slowly released him. “Change and dress. I fear we have yet more weary events to witness this evening.”  
  
  
Chapter Nine: [A Gentleman's Recompense](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/77928.html)


	4. Extra the Fourth - the Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a Christmas present for sykira. A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. There are two other MAAN ideas where these came from.

  


**Title** : Seals of Love  
**Genre** : Much Ado About Nothing  
**Rating** : M  
**Author** : tkel_paris and tardis_mole  
**Summary** : Written as a Christmas present for sykira. A what if inspired by my writing “Glance of Love” and the indications of what might have been for Benedick and Beatrice had their merry war not been triggered.  
**Disclaimer** : Good lord, I'm writing fanfic about a Shakespeare play! Do I need to write that I own nothing? Especially when it's inspired by a particular stage performance?  
**Dedication** : sykira. You're welcome, love. :D

 **Author's Note:** When my Muse got the bug that later became “Glance of Love”, she got a few other ideas as well. There are two other MAAN ideas where these came from.  
  
And a huge thanks to tardis_mole for providing the majority of this chapter. It was too good to not use, and I hope my friend enjoyed the process of helping me revise the play into this fic. *hugs*  
  
  
  
[Chapter One](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/46932.html) / [Chapter Two](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/71361.html) / [Chapter Three](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/71854.html) / [Chapter Four](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/74573.html) / [Chapter Five](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/75885.html) / [Chapter Six](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76526.html) / [Chapter Seven](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76658.html) / [Chapter Eight](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76870.html) / [Chapter Nine](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/77928.html) / [Chapter Ten](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/78591.html)  
[DVD Extra the First](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/49228.html) / [DVD Extra the Second](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/76071.html) / [DVD Extra the Third](http://tkel-paris.livejournal.com/77110.html)  
  
  
  


DVD EXTRA THE FOURTH: THE WEDDING NIGHT  
  
Beatrice had felt on an emotional high ever since Benedick had looked her in the eye as she was walked down the aisle by her uncle; her husband had not looked away except for when he had to address the Friar. It was increased when he and Don Pedro removed the sash with his family's crest and colors to make room for her family's sash – last worn by her father. She had insisted on putting it on Benedick and fastening it into place. As soon as it was his, she was only able to restrain the urge to stop any reply with a kiss for a moment.  
  
His answering kiss, just as the one they shared before he asked for her hand, left her trembling and filled with a longing she didn't quite understand. Not even after the events of the previous night that her aunt organized for her benefit. No, the dancers had left her feeling very unsatisfied and even nervous about what would happen. Especially after the one serious talk she had cornered her aunt into having with her.  
  
It was her dreams that unsettled her more. What little she knew was heightened by the fire started by Benedick's kiss that day in the garden, a fire fanned by those dreams. The events of each day could cool it, but sometimes she only had to see the desire in Benedick's eyes to be forced to conceal her own – though she doubted he was fooled for an instant, given the hints of compassion he showed. Her dreams had expanded on the one kiss, making her wonder what it might have felt like to let his hands wander more than they did, or if her hands had wandered.  
  
It was hardly what a proper lady was supposed to be thinking of, but she supposed she had never been a traditionally proper lady. And since her Senor was fine with that, she would take pride in it.  
  
Her fingers twitched as Maria finished the final preparations. She was now in what had once been her parents' bedroom, wearing a teal chemise with a matching robe. It was a gift from her aunt, given with a whisper of hope that her wedding night would be better than her own.  
  
Somehow the words did not help Beatrice's mental state.  
  
A knock sounded, and she blushed. There was only one person it could be.  
  
“One moment, my lord,” called out Maria, also suspecting. She was done, but stopped to touch her lady's hands. “Please breathe, Lady Beatrice,” she whispered. “My mother says it doth help.”  
  
Beatrice let out a tiny laugh, and smiled. The best advice did seem to come from her aunt's gentlewoman.  
  
Knowing she had done all she could, Maria left Beatrice's side to open the door. Sure enough Benedick entered, although whatever he had intended to say was silenced at the sight of Beatrice's attire and the skin shown.  
  
Smiling with the slight knowing that only a maiden gentlewoman could have, Maria slipped out and closed the door behind her.  
  
As soon as the door closed, Beatrice decided to hide her nervousness by coming at him with her lip first. “Is it custom for a man to look on his new wife like a starving man on finally having dinner?”  
  
Sensing her nervousness, he gave a confident but quiet air, pressed a finger to her lips and gently kissed her.  
  
The kiss stunned her, and she felt a little of her fear lessen at his tenderness. Still, she gave him another verbal riposte: “How so would a man on entering a lady's bedroom call himself a gentleman when his intentions are less than gentlemanly?”  
  
He answered by another gentle kiss.  
  
A third one was silenced before it was fully spoken. Yet somehow his actions and manner allowed her to feel a bit calmer.  
  
He stroked her face tenderly. “You are my wife, I am your husband. Tonight is for both of us, equal.”  
  
She took a deep breath, which fluttered nervously. “I don’t know what I should do. You have been with a woman. I am unknown and unknowing.”  
  
“Beauty in the dark is still beauty. And you shall be known only to me. I respect your desire to be my equal and in some things you are my better. But tonight let me be your guide.” He took her robe and slid it off her shoulders until it dropped onto the chair. Then he nodded to her to do the same.  
  
She shivered, still feeling echoes of his fingers on her bare skin. But she was emboldened.  
  
Taking turns they made each other naked and he allowed her time to gaze over him. He even turned around on the spot for her, so she could see all of him in the lamp light.  
  
“Like what you see?”  
  
“Like? I am uncertain there is such a word that would fit less. You are beautiful,” she amended just as quickly.  
  
He smiled. “Touch me.”  
  
Beatrice had no idea what that would accomplish, but she supposed it was part of the marriage bed that things happened and people were made. She could guess from the dogs in the street what went where, but she had no desire to be unloved like a dog. Nor to have water poured on her, either. Even given that his fingers had felt like they were trailing fire over her skin as he undressed her.  
  
She tentatively drew her fingers down his chest, feeling the hairs on his chest tickle her fingertips, and stopped at his belly. His fingers did the same, lingering in pirouettes around her nipples before continuing down her flat belly. She copied him and was surprised when he gasped at her touch.  
  
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
  
“You didn’t hurt me. I happen to be very sensitive there. In a good way.”  
  
“Is that why the tree stands more rampant than before?”  
  
He grinned. “It will for the better part of the night. And I shall give you as much pleasure from it as I know you can give me.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“Trust me.”  
  
She took a deep breath. “I trust you.”  
  
“Don’t be afraid, but I should warn you. At the moment I join us it may hurt.”  
  
“Hurt!” she squawked.  
  
“Shshsh!” He eyed the door and pursed his lips. “In case anyone is listening, or accidentally overhears our first night of love, it is customary for a gentlewoman to be tutored in some things by her mother. I trust your aunt has imparted some hints in her place?”  
  
Beatrice snorted. “All I heard from my aunt, now indeed your aunt as well, might I remind you, is to lie back and take it for the fair future of House and Country.”  
  
Benedick scowled. “For that, if he were not my uncle, I would slap Leonato with his own gloves. For no maiden upon her wedding night nor after it should be forced, even by the man she calls husband.”  
  
“I thank you for your care, husband, but I have heard from others also that a manhood once devoured is not quickly wished for again. It is why my aunt only had the one fruitful endeavour and not more.”  
  
“I will aim to make you want me as often as you are in my arms, Beatrice,” he vowed. “Upon my honour, I shall make you remember this night with fondness. Now, touch me, and let me show you what your gentlewomen have obviously missed.”  
  
They spent many minutes stroking each other, finding delicate sighs and sensitive spots. He smiled as he felt her relax under his lips and hands, thrilling in how hers grew braver and more adventurous as the passion grew.  
  
Beatrice was startled when he adjusted his arms to lift her into the bridal hold. She broke the kiss to look him in the eyes.  
  
He gave her an understanding smile. “Let me just this once, as this night is a first for us both.”  
  
She sighed. “Just this once.”  
  
He laid her on the bed, cradled in his arm while the other held him aloft. Their mouths met in sweet abandon that soon restored the mood, and she let him settle between her thighs.  
  
For now he rested against her entrance, his body gently flexing. From his thoughtful explorations he had the confirmation to what he had known in his heart, that she was a virgin; and as such he took her slowly, at her pace. He pressed in just a little and waited until she was relaxed, humming through each breath with him before moving a little further in.  
  
“Tell me you don’t get any bigger then this,” she gritted softly.  
  
“I have breached you, my love,” he murmured back. “How do you feel, now that you are no longer a woman, but my wife, the lady of my heart?”  
  
“As good I hope as it feels for you to be married to me and subject to mine traditions.”  
  
He grinned at her in fun. “I shall enjoy your traditions. Let my brothers keep mine. It falls to them as eldest. And if it did not, I would have passed them on to them anyway.”  
  
“You would do that for a woman?”  
  
“Not just any woman. You alone.” He arched his hips forward and felt her flinch. “The last of me,” he promised.  
  
He arched back and forth slow, gradually increasing the strength of the stroke. Before long she was huffing with him. He rocked her, lowering his mouth to her breast, suckling her as a babe in arms. He could hear her mewling in response and as she got louder he lifted his head to watch her.  
  
He felt her body erupt into palsied thrashing. He smiled tenderly as she gripped him with her limbs.

He thrust deeply, giving her a moment or two to catch her breath before quickening the pace again. Within a few minutes she was mewling and he smiled. He could feel her reach climax again.  
  
“I think it is my turn to make you yell at the moon,” she told him, breathless.  
  
“I am not far behind you,” he promised.  
  
“Roll over and prove it.”  
  
His eyebrows flickered in surprise, but did so. He had never been beneath a woman, but he had a feeling he was going to enjoy this. He rolled over and Beatrice straddled him, making herself comfortable in his lap. She moved on him, holding his hips still when he attempted to match her moves. She smirked when she heard his breath rasp in his throat. His knees parted as she moved above him like a cavorting cloud.  
  
His head dropped back on the pillow as his back arched upward, and a long drawn out groan escaped towards the ceiling. He flopped back to the sheets and held her hips still. “You learn too quickly, my love,” he whinnied. “I’m not quite ready to die in your arms.”  
  
She moved more slowly, their hands stroking each other. She was surprised when he sat up. She could feel him thrust up inside her and as he had promised it was no longer uncomfortable. Snuggled together, they kissed and smoothed their hands over each other.  
  
Humming softly, she shuddered around him, unaware that he had rolled towards her, settling her on her back again. She listened to him moan stridently, humming her name to her. She echoed him, encouraging him on, lifting her knees higher.  
  
“I am about to plough your sweet garden, my Lady,” he panted. “May you crop this night, for I shall be fair pleased if you bear me fruit.”  
  
Beatrice whimpered in response. “Husband! Yes!” she shrieked.  
  
Her cry vanished beneath his loud wanton howl, broken as it was between hard thrusts and harsh breaths. His head dropped to her forehead as he jerked to fill her further. With a gentle growl of completion he shifted only enough to capture her lips with his.  
  
Panting in the darkness, they remained motionless.  
  
“Don’t make me move,” he begged.  
  
“If you move I shall gut you and eat you alive.”  
  
“Fair warning taken,” he replied.  
  
They remained locked together for several minutes even while he shifted his knees beneath her hips to thrust hard.  
  
“You have more?”  
  
“Have you not noticed that some men have more than one son?”  
  
“At this rate I shall have sons and daughters from just this one planting,” she griped.  
  
“The more the merrier,” he supposed with a smile.  
  
Holding himself up on his hands, his body swung back and fourth in strong motions. Within just a minute they were both moaning together. His head lifted, eyes closed as his jaw dropped.  
  
“Oh Beatrice! Hold me!” he begged.  
  
Beatrice had no idea what he meant and held the only thing she could think of. His buttocks. She found it oddly funny how they rippled and clenched in her grasp. As she joined him rising towards the heavens she pressed him to her in time with him. His eyes opened wide and she stared back at him.  
  
“It comes!” he growled and the heart exploded inside her.  
  
Their bodies twitched together, seemingly without an end in sight. Panting harshly, he managed a kiss.  
  
“Have I met all vows I made to you upon the threshold of the marriage bed, Lady Beatrice?”  
  
“You have, sir,” she panted back. “All that and more.”  
  
It was not long after that sleep claimed them both, but a love that new would be woken again in the night. How many times was theirs to know, and treasure.  
  
THE END


End file.
